Sanctuary
by M. Rose
Summary: Miss Parker thinks about her “Sanctuary.” *Updated*


Title: Sanctuary   
  
Author: M. Rose  
  
Email: mrv1snap@aol.com  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Category: MPJR, MP POV piece  
  
Spoiler: Post-Island Of The Haunted  
  
Summary: Miss Parker thinks about her "Sanctuary."  
  
Disclaimer: The Pretender and all its characters belong to Pretender Productions and TNT. No infringement intended, no profit gained.  
  
Authors Notes: This story takes place after "Turning Point." You don't need to read that to understand this story, but I would love it you would.   
  
Sanctuary   
  
by M. Rose  
  
~*~*~  
  
Miss Parker walked up the steps of her home glad to have another day behind her. She had a very stressful day and was looking forward to some peace and quiet. She turned off her cell phone, disconnected all other phones in the house and locked all doors. And if that didn't ensure her some undisturbed relaxation, she had her gun and was fully prepared to use it on anyone who was stupid enough to bother her.   
  
She remembered when she first moved in to the cottage. It was an incentive her father threw in when she hesitated at his request for her to leave corporate to capture their Pretender. She wanted to move up in the world and this was a first class ticket to hell. She didn't understand why he couldn't just have his sweepers chase after the lab rat? How hard could it be anyway?  
  
The cottage belonged to her mother. Her father had given it to her on their first wedding anniversary. Momma loved it so much they spent most holidays there, even when her father couldn't make it due to Centre business.   
  
After Momma died, her father demanded that absolutely no one go near it without his permission.   
  
When she was eighteen, she came home for a short visit. As usual, Daddy was too busy to see her. Bored and lonely, she went to the only place she ever felt loved as a child.   
  
She found the spare key hidden inside a flowerpot by the door, stepped inside and looked around. The furniture was covered in sheets that she was sure were white at one time and a thin layer of dust covered everything she touched.   
  
When she arrived at her parents' room, she noticed something lying on the bed; it was her mother's sweater. She picked it up and caressed her cheek with the soft material. The scent was long gone, but the memory of Momma's favorite perfume was still quite vivid in her mind. She sat on the bed as her eyes filled with tears.   
  
Sometimes her heartache would turn into anger for being left alone, but not today. Today, she missed Momma so much and would do anything to bring her back.   
  
She fell asleep crying on the bed, clinging to the sweater.   
  
The sound of the front door creaking open woke her. She was pretty sure no one had followed her there and wondered who it was, but before she could investigate, she was face to face with one of her father's sweepers. Obviously, her sneaking skills needed some work.   
  
She tried to explain why she went there, but Daddy would hear none of it. He simply voiced his anger and disappointment and then punished her by sending her back to school early.   
  
She never repeated that mistake.   
  
Daddy knew how much that place meant to her and used it to his advantage, but as much as she craved to be near anything that reminded her of Momma, she wanted more. The fact of the matter was that she hated corporate and wanted out of the Centre. If this person was as important to him as she suspected, he would have to agree.  
  
To say that her father was surprised at her proposal was an understatement. She thought for sure he would flat out refuse, but his shocked expression suddenly changed into a grin as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "You catch our boy and we'll talk." She left his office with the key to her new home and a slight smile.   
  
The cottage became her sanctuary away from the wild goose chases and mind games played daily at the Centre. She relished in the comfort it brought her, but it was all taken away when she found her lover's slumped form on the porch.   
  
Coming home after that was a nightmare. Spending sleepless nights at the Centre was preferable, but not for long. She had to come home and when she did, everything around her reminded her of Tommy. The plaid shirt he promised she could have after he died. Of course, he was kidding when he made the comment and she scolded him for putting the thought in her head. Days later, it wasn't a joke anymore. The bed where he taught her about making love rather than quick, harsh sex. She was far from needing a tutor in that field, but sex was always about control for her. She didn't need or want to control him and for the first time she let him take the lead. The kitchen reminded her of the time he made her his famous chili. It was delicious and he told her it was a family recipe. She prodded for the so-called "secret" ingredient, but he wouldn't divulge it. He took it to the grave with him.   
  
But the worst was the trek from her car to the front door. She tried in vain not to think of his body sprawled out, but every time she got to the door she had to look at the spot where she found him that fateful morning.   
  
She finally opened her heart and was rewarded by pain. She vowed to never let anyone get that close ever again.   
  
Eventually the nightmares subsided and were replaced once again by thoughts of her mother and the comfort and security it brought.  
  
She kicked off her heels and went over to light the fireplace. As she rose, she noticed the picture of her mother and her as a child and took it with her to the kitchen where she poured herself a drink. With the frame in one hand and a scotch in the other, she settled onto the couch and tried as best she could to relax.  
  
As she took a sip of the amber liquid, she chuckled silently to herself. She could never truly relax. That would mean letting her guard down, leaving her vulnerable for others to take advantage like prey left out in the desert to be picked to death.   
  
She'd rest all right ... when she was dead.   
  
She was reminded just how high the stakes were a few days ago when she was given a false and possibly deadly lead on Jarod. Her instincts were right on the money when she detected foul play and shifted gears to find out who was stupid enough to underestimate her.   
  
It didn't take long to figure out her nitwit brother was behind it. He was eliminating the competition. Without her in the picture, he was sure to succeed in capturing Jarod. Or so he thought. It boggled her mind how she could be related to him.   
  
He had a death wish and she was more than happy to comply, but Jarod got to him first.   
  
There wasn't much to be happy about lately, so she took what little pleasure she could from Lyle's failure as she imagined him begging for his life. But being the Boy Scout he is, Jarod let the freak-of-nature live.   
  
She wondered why Jarod just didn't finish the job after everything Lyle had done to him. It wasn't a secret that there was no love lost between her and her brother. He was trying to kill her after all. But she knew Jarod needed answers, she did too.   
  
And you couldn't get answers from a dead man.   
  
As she watched the hypnotic flames dance in the fireplace, she thought about her role in this bizarre life of hers. Bringing back Jarod used to be her only driving force. It consumed her to the point of almost killing her -- several times.   
  
Daddy had always told her that Jarod was a dangerous man, who was not to be trusted and would say anything to stay free. But she knew that was far from the truth. Yes, he wanted his freedom, but he had never proved to be dangerous. In fact, he was the opposite, always irritatingly helping the little man.   
  
And then Jarod began feeding her bits of information. Part misdirection, part revelation. The term skeletons in closets had never been truer. And every time she confronted the wrongdoers, another layer of deception was added.   
  
Back on the Island, everything changed. Her reasoning for being there was two-fold. She was still hell-bent on bringing the Pretender back to where he belonged and she wanted the truth about the connection between her mother and Jarod's. And nothing was going to stop her from finding out what that connection was. Apparently, the same was true for Jarod.   
  
And since they were searching for the same thing, they joined forces. Only now would she admit to herself, how well they worked together and the longer she was around him, the harder it was to keep up the pretense of her tough exterior. There was no reason to. He knew all her secrets and she knew his.   
  
The final barrier came crumbling down when he told her what she always knew; the freedom she possessed was a mere illusion. She was as much a prisoner of the Centre as he was. Except, her walls were made of family obligations and coercion.   
  
With barriers broken and feelings revealed, desire ignited and they drifted closer together to answer another question lingering in the backs of their minds.   
  
Nestled in her sanctuary, she drifted to sleep while her mind continued to play the scene. This time with a different ending, where there were no interruptions and they could both be free.   
  
~end~  
  
Feedback cherished at mrv1snap@aol.com  
  
Website: http://mrose.homestead.com/pretender.html  
  
9/16/02 


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